


Judgement

by orphan_account



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Brooding, Cunnilingus, F/M, Rutting, Shameless Smut, Smut, Wall Sex, and he loves it, jon has dark thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-13 17:58:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15370155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Jon Snow returns to Winterfell. The first thing he wants to do is meet with Sansa, one on one.





	Judgement

**Author's Note:**

> bit of shameless smut I wrote to satisfy an urge. enjoy!

“Is it true?” She asked him, holding up the raven scroll. Sansa looked agitated, her breathing harsh. “You agreed to bend the knee to her?”

Jon drank in her body, hidden beneath _that dress, that beautiful Stark dress_ – the way she looked, and _gods those eyes_ – as his pants tightened even now. Having ordered everyone out was doing nothing to control the beast threatening to leap from his soul.

A hint of her leg – the creamy, soft flesh beckoning him – was glimpsed as she stepped around the high table and closer to him. “Jon?” she asked, confusion evident in her face.

“I agreed to bend the knee after the war was won, as I said.” he explained. A simple enough proposition. She was so close to him now, her own eyes fixated upon his face. He felt the room grow dark as she became the only thing in his vision.

She slid the scroll up her sleeve – yet as she did, Jon caught her eyes trailing over his body. It was a fleeting and brief look, but he was forced to bite his lip hard to suppress the growl within.

The looks, the brief and simple touches – the tension. Gods, it was so simple of him to see; how could he have been so blind? Yet while he was away in the South, trying to rally the realm against the true enemy he had realized it deep within his dark, disgusting bastard soul.

He wanted her.

“I can't say I'm not disappointed...” she exhaled, offering a nod. “but it at least gives us a chance to learn more of her.”

_I want to learn more about you, sweet girl. To taste your cunt,_ the wolf inside howled.

Her lips – perfect and supple as they were – hypnotized him.

“Jon?” Sansa asked, touching his arm lightly. “Are you alright?”

He nodded. “I have something I want to show you.” he whispered.

Nodding, Sansa ran a hand to rest upon her hip. _Gods, yes._ The growl escaped his throat, despite his efforts at control.

Swiftly as he could, Jon wrapped his arm around her waist and pull her against him, their lips crashing together in a collision of flesh. Her perfume was overpowering – lemony, he observed – but it was like the sweetest smell in the entirety of the world.

* * *

Her hands grabbed at his tunic as she made no effort to resist, Sansa instead moaning into Jon's lips.

Seeing his chance, Jon grabbed one of her legs with his hand and lifted it, his hand grazing up and down its soft flesh as they crashed into the door of the hall, their tongues beginning to duel for control over their mouths.

The gods were kind to him, Jon knew at once as Sansa began to rub herself against him, her hands rapidly finding and starting to unlace his breeches. She wrapped the leg in Jon's hand around his back, pulling them even closer.

Pausing her attempts to free his throbbing member, Sansa grabbed his hand and pushed it towards her core, the heat from her smallclothes warming his fingers.

Even as this occurred, their mouths did not relent. The kisses were sloppy and more tongue then lip, but neither one of them wanted to disengage first. The pent up passion, lust and sexual energy was finally being released – and it had taken them this long to work up the courage.

Yet one of them must eventually breathe – and so Jon broke the kiss, strands of spit hanging from their lips as they both gasped for air. Neither he nor Sansa took their eyes away, simply staring with open mouths, Sansa's breathing becoming ragged.

* * *

He took this moment to rub his hand against her core, causing her to hiss. She was soaking wet, her smallclothes dripping with arousal. “How long have you thought about this, Sansa?” he whispered, pushing her up against the stone wall next to the door.

His fingers ran against her clit, sending her into a spasm of moans and flailing limbs.

She merely nodded as he dropped to his knees, diving under her dress. Swiftly, he pulled her small-clothes down to her ankles and stared in awe and wonder at her womanhood.

Her nethers were clean shaven save for a slight strip of red hair. _Ever so small and proper_ , just like her. Jon's mouth practically watered as he saw that her wetness coated the inside of her thighs. _I am a lord and this is my feast,_ he exalted.

Within seconds his lips were on hers, the heat and moisture hitting all of his senses at once as he lapped hungrily at her slit. He savored her shudders, her screams and her hands digging into his hair as he continued his frenzied tasting, the sweet flavor driving him on.

He drew one hand up to her nub and rubbed it, his tongue probing her folds as Sansa let out the most lustful and primal noises he'd ever heard or imagined to hear. _This is disgusting,_ that moral Stark part of his mind told him.

_It is,_ he concurred, _but disgusting has never been so sweet._

Sansa nearly collapsed on-top of him when she came, Jon moaning in contentment as he felt her peak.

Peeling himself away from that forbidden nectar, Jon looked up at her. Sansa's face was red, her hair was frizzled and coated in sweat, and tears of joy ran down her eyes as she panted, her breaths now wild and feral.

Rising to his feet, Jon pulled his cock free of his breeches. “Is...is this what you want, sweet girl?” he whispered, leaning against her as she whimpered under him.

It was Sansa who moved next, grabbing his cock and gliding it around her dress, rubbing it against her sweetened folds. “Please, Jon...” she gasped, uncaring at this point about the consequences. “You know what...what I want...”

That was all he needed to hear, and without a word did he thrust his cock inside of her. The howl that emerged from her lips reminded him of a wolf – a true Stark if ever there was one – and he silenced her with a kiss, their tongues back to their combat even as his cock worked its way into her wet core.

Sansa wrapped both of her legs around his back, helping him with his thrusts. She drove her muscles into him with all of her strength, forcing Jon's cock further inside of her. Their kisses intensified with every thrust, Sansa needing to pause as she gasped and squirmed with the movement of her lover.

_Lover. Not brother. Not King. Lover._

“Tell me you want me...” he whispered as they broke the kiss, his thrusts continuing at a steady pace.

Sansa nodded, her voice hoarse from the noises she'd made. “Since we reunited...gods, Jon...don't stop...” she moaned, her nails digging into his back. Good, let them see she has marked me.

“Are you close?” Jon asked, the shaking in her body beginning to reemerge.

Before she could answer, her lips were on his again, her breaths now reduced to snorts coming from her nostrils as he rutted into her like a dog. _No, a wolf._

Her nails went deeper into his skin and Jon relished the pain.

His own peak grew ever heated, his balls now slapping against both her skin and the stone of the wall. This was beyond mating – this was something raw and primal. Fucking, pure and explosive. Jon never wanted to leave this room, never wanted to face the rest of the assembled persons who waited outside for them.

“Sansa...” he choked out as he rested his head on her shoulder, continuing his thrusts at a less intense pace. “I'm....I'm close...”

She bit down on his ear. “I want it, Jon...” she moaned, licking at the dribbles of blood emerging from the wound, “I don't care if it gets me with child...I want to feel you inside...”

Jon had sworn to the old gods and new that he would never father a bastard.

Yet his half-sister was now begging for him, and her body felt so good against his.

_No wonder men have bastards,_ he realized.

 

* * *

With a final thrust, he collapsed against Sansa as his balls emptied into her, the pleasure causing his eyes to nearly roll backwards into his skull. For her part, Sansa raked her nails up his back, crying out with the last of her energy as her legs fell to the floor, the weight of Jon against her keeping her from sliding down.

As quickly as it had begun, it was over. Jon removed himself from her – taking time to admire those silky, sweat-covered legs as she pulled her small-clothes up, ignoring the seed that now ran down the inside of her legs – and tucked his cock back into his breeches.

Together they opened the doors to the Hall – as dozens of faces stared in disbelief at them. No one moved or said a word; they simply stared.

“We...we should talk about the Night King.” Jon noted with a sheepish grin.

* * *

 

 


End file.
